Before the Talk Show
by ImpossibleNightmare
Summary: Forkedblade and Amber both had different lives before they started their talk show. And it was almost by chance that they even met in the first chance - how they even managed to become friends is close to a miracle. But fate was determined to bring them together, and even before the talk show, Forkedblade and Amber were ready for a change in their lives.
1. Not Counting Birds Yet

This is a fanfiction based off of my OC's, Forkedblade and Amber, from the Forkedamber Talk Show. This is just how they met, but it might turn into some other stuff too...I'm not sure how often this will update. Likely whenever I have time, and if people want me to continue...thank you to everyone who was interested in seeing how the two met! I had fun writing this and it means a lot to know that people are curious about Forkedblade and Amber.

So...I'm not sure how this is going to go, exactly. I'm thinking in terms of short chapters, starting off with how they met each other...if I don't like how it's turning out, I'll just condense it into a one-shot type thing. I think I'll start off with their childhoods...

Anyway, hope y'all enjoy!

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Chapter One

Forkedblade

Even at the age of one-and-a-half, Forkedblade knew something was weird about his family. First off, they lived in the Sky Kingdom, when he was pretty sure that they weren't even supposed to be there. Second off, he knew it was weird for his parents to insist that they were SkyWings; that they had red scales, could breathe fire, had the largest wings and were the fastest fliers, and that Scarlet was their queen...when in fact they had black scales like the night, and were really not that fast of fliers. Although, it was true that they could breathe fire, and he was pretty sure Queen Scarlet was their queen...right?

But regardless of their confused outlook of themselves, Forkedblade's parents were definitely SkyWings. Just...black SkyWings. Who didn't really look like any of the very few SkyWings Forkedblade had seen. So Forkedblade, naturally, had to also be a SkyWing, even if he didn't actually believe he really was. It was just logical; two SkyWings would have SkyWing offspring, so he had to be of the same tribe.

And in the one-and-a-half years of his life, Forkedblade had never actually travelled past the next peak of the mountain range he called home. He had his parents; Silverdagger, a lean and war-hardened black dragon who believed that she'd fought long and hard for Queen Scarlet in the war, and Icebreather, who didn't actually breath ice. All in all, compared to all the other SkyWing names Forkedblade had read about, neither he nor his parents actually had typical SkyWing names.

But, he reasoned, that was likely because they were not typical SkyWings.

Silverdagger and Icebreather liked isolation. That was why they lived in the cave, so far up in the mountains that it took several days's flight to actually reach the nearest town - but Forkedblade was okay with the loneliness.

You know, he never wanted a friend or anything. Because he was perfectly content with staring at a rock wall for hours on end and counting the number of times water dripped from a stalactite.

Really, it was a wonder Forkedblade wasn't bored to death.

His parents liked to spend their days in similar fashion; Silverdagger often read out long epics about dragons who'd died long ago and who nobody actually knew about, and when she wasn't doing that, she was off 'exploring all the wondrous properties of various plants' in the mountains, claiming that Forkedblade was too small and inexperienced to come with her. Icebreather, on the other hand, was always busy with various activities of uniniterest; polishing every rock formation, because they were never quiet shiny enough, or clearing away all the rocks in different caverns of the cave, or looking at cloud formations, or counting the number of bird that flew by in the sky every day. And despite the utter boringness and simplicity of all of his activities, Icebreather claimed that Forkedblade was too small and inexperienced to help him.

It wasn't that they were bad parents. They were just uninteresting. All their energy and interesting-ness had been spent up years ago, when they were in the prime of youth. By dragon standards, Silverdagger and Icebreather were rather old to only have a dragonet who was only one-and-a-half. But they'd had their fair share of traumatic and dramatic experiences, which was why they were where they were now - in a cavern doing boring stuff because they no longer could find any energy to be nearly as exciting as Forkedblade actually wanted them to be.

At one point in his six months of being one-and-a-half, Forkedblade somehow decided that he had a long-lost brother, a SkyWing dragonet who was meant to play with him all the time, to ease some of the boredom the poor dragonet felt. However, Forkedblade believed with all his heart that some poor misfortune had fallen upon his brother - one day, Forkedblade's brother had been out in the mountains, and he'd gone past the nearest peak, flown to the next one, on and on, leaping from mountain to mountain, desperate to reach the rising sun...but then, somehow, his brother had slipped, landed in a patch of thorns...and never came back...which was why he was long-lost.

Forkedblade believed his brother was actually named Thorn. Because he had landed in a bed of thorns. It made sense to his young mind. And he also believed that Thorn was out there somewhere, lost, afraid, and desperate to return home.

It was all very sad to think about, but honestly, Forkedblade didn't feel nearly interesting enough to actually try and go find Thorn (well, he did think he was interesting enough, but his parents had told him otherwise).

So Forkedblade the one-and-a-half-year-old dragonet went about his daily boring business, believing that he was just a strange SkyWing in a family of equally unusual SkyWings, missing his brother that he never actually remembered and who really probably didn't actually exist. He certainly didn't expect that life held anything else for him other than looking at walls and counting drips.

But the interesting stuff comes a couple of years later, so we'll leave him here, staring at walls and counting the drips of stalactites, dreaming of the day he'd go outside with his father to count birds inside (as this was a much harder task, because MOVING OBJECTS). We'll leave him believing that he is, in fact, a black SkyWing, when in fact, of course, he is quiet obviously a poorly informed NightWing with parents who are either having an identity crisis or are playing some cruel trick on their son (but then, they're a bit too dry to come up with something like that, so the former must be true...).

Basically, we'll leave Forkedblade here so that he'll grow up and speed us right along in our story.

Let's head over to Amber, shall we?


	2. Only Four Thousand Buckets Left

**Ebony-The-Dragon: Yay! Thank you so much for following and favoriting, and I'm super glad that you found this interesting. Here's the second chapter, from Amber's point of view. Enjoy! (And yes, likely you will find out about Amber's Winterwatcher obsession.) Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **1-Red-1: Thanks! I'm really glad you're liking this. Haha, I agree. I do think it's very amusing that they think they are NightWings, and for the life of me can't imagine why...I should probably figure that out XD. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **BrightMind: Glad you're sympathizing with poor Forkedblade...honestly, I'm amazed he** **didn't turn out dull like his parents ended up being. But yes, he got his wish for a more exciting life - and Amber will certainly keep him on his toes now. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **MystycDragon: I really hope you will like this! I'll definitely kept it up, and I'll try to make the chapters longer - I just wasn't sure how long people would prefer. This chapter is also fairly short, but that's because I was trying to balance them out - if Forkedblade got a short chapter, than Amber would get a short one too. But I'll try to make them longer from this point out, maybe switch point of views instead. And thanks for the tip! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **dragonwritergirl112: Heehee. I'm sorry, I love Forkedblade a lot. I also love Amber. But that chapter was fun to write...and yes, at least he had more imagination than his parents. XD Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Thepicduck: Glad you liked it, and yes, yes you do. Thank you for reading and reviewing!  
**

 **Pancake Unicorn: Yay! And I'm so hyped for you to like it! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

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 **Author's Note:** Well, hopefully you made it to chapter two and weren't thrown off by the weirdness that was chapter one.

BUT GUYS, THANK YOU ALL SO MUCH FOR ALL THE REVIEWS! I'M SO HYPED (AS PANCAKE UNICORN WOULD SAY :) ) ABOUT THIS!

But on to what you really want to read about.

So here's Amber's basic childhood from her point of view.

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Chapter Two

Amber

Even at the age of one-and-a-half, Amber knew she was different from every other SandWing in her village. She was much more interesting than any of them would ever hope to be, and she knew she was destined for something more than her bland village life, or the life that her parents lived, or the ones that her siblings planned on living in the near future. So yes. A bland village life.

Every day was exactly the same as the one that preceded it, and exactly similar to the one that followed; every morning, she and her six sisters rose from their sleep to go collect water from the town well to start the day's chores, every afternoon they cleared away dirty dishes and set about preparing for some form of dinner, every night, they did what they did every afternoon, and just as the sun began to set, they all went back to bed every night to sleep for another identical day.

It was really boring. If Amber had known Forkedblade at this point, she would've had arguments with him about his life being super exciting compared to hers. And they would have these arguments, just not now. Because they didn't know each other yet.

Unlike Forkedblade, Amber had a relatively large family; six sisters: Sandstorm, Valley, Sunrise, Dusk, Turquoise, and Juniper.

And she had five brothers: Coyote, Fox, Jackrabbit, Cobra, and Drought.

And her parents: Whirlwind and Equinox.

Plus her extended family; aunts and uncles and cousins and nieces and nephews (as Sandstorm, Valley, and Coyote both had dragonets already, being the oldest hatching) that she didn't even know because there were just too many of them. Well, she knew her nieces and nephews because they all lived in the same house, which was already full to bursting. But she just didn't bother to keep their names straight because there were not only too many of them, but she felt that they weren't nearly fascinating or fabulous enough to actually be called something.

With such a large family, Amber always had difficulty standing out. She, being the stereotypical youngest of all her sisters and brothers, found that being the baby of the family got her attention, but not in ways she actually wanted.

No, she didn't want to be known as the cutie, or the baby, or as needing help because she was too young to do the same chore her sisters had done when they were probably even younger than she currently was, and didn't want to be known as absolutely adorable, as her aunt Haboob used to call her affectionately. Haboob was the only aunt she actually really knew very well, mostly because Haboob really liked to annoy Amber with affection, and also because Haboob was just a weird name, even if it was a name that had been passed down through countless generations of Whirlwind's family and the dragoness given the name was considered to practically be a queen and given so much honor.

Amber supposed that she would've gotten a different kind of attention if she'd been named something else - she, in fact, was supposed to be the lucky dragon named Haboob in her generation, and she likely would've been treated the same as her aunt (with extremely fake and worn thin politeness, snickers behind her back about the name, and as if she were a precious doll). But Amber had not been named Haboob because her mother didn't want any dragonet of hers to ever bear such a name, and for that, Amber was eternally grateful.

No, Amber wanted to be known as the best sister, the best sibling, the one dragonet who did something worthwhile with her life and stood out among her siblings for all the good reasons, the one who was remembered for generations to come, not just in her own family and her SandWing village. Not just in the Sand Kingdom. No, she wanted to be known throughout the whole continent, known as the one dragon who brought together all the tribes, peacefully, who ended wars, who cured the sick, who entertained them all with her talent, made them laugh, cry, and everything in between. She wanted to fly as far as the sky would reach and meet all kinds of other dragons, make new friends wherever she went, reach worlds beyond the boring kingdom she lived in now. One day, she dreamed that her name would be known every where, and her face plastered on countless scrolls with her whole biography, which would certainly sound more interesting than her life had actually been...

Whenever she voiced aloud her large dreams, often including but not limited to becoming queen of Pyrrhia, marrying a rich dragon and pulling her family out of their crushing poverty, flying over the oceans to discover if there were any other continents out there, or the like, her family often just looked at her like she was crazy.

"That's wonderful to think about, sweetie," her mother Equinox would always say. "I'd say you could write a scroll, but we can't afford paper or ink, so thinking is excellent. But maybe you could go get some water for us instead? That's a lot more useful. Thinking doesn't actually do anything.

"I think you'll drown flying over the ocean," her father Whirlwind would always comment to show his support. "You're not even two and you'll tire easily, and I can't imagine where you'd get food or water to replenish your energy, and besides, the whole journey would be pointless - there's nothing but Pyrrhia."

"Good luck," Sandstorm and Valley would always say, not really listening because they were trying to keep track of all their dragonets and all the chores that needed to be done. Then they would usually add, "Didn't I tell you to leave well enough alone with sand and scorpions? Desert winds, you're so stupid!" This was not to Amber. This was normally to Veld, Prairie, and Xerophilous, the most troublesome of Amber's nieces and nephews and the only ones whose names she actually bothered to remember so she could tell on them for all the annoyance they caused her.

"I think you'll die in combat," Sunrise and Dusk would both say doubtfully. "Against any of the winning queens, whoever that happens to be? Blister won't even blink an eye, Burn would probably kill you with three limbs tied behind her, and even Blaze would end your life without much thought and probably wail something about your blood ruining her jewelry."

"Unlikely, as I'll be the one marrying any rich dragons around here," Turquoise would sniff as she brushed off her scales as if they were dirty, which they were. Princess Blaze was her idol and Turquoise aspired to be like the SandWing royalty in every way she could. "Now go away, you're completely ruining the perfectness of this circle of sand with your ugliness intruding on my utter perfection."

Juniper and her brothers never even bothered to dignify what they deemed 'unrealistic dreams' with a verbal response. They just snorted.

So yes, Amber had lots to prove to her very unimpressed family. But just you wait, she'd think. I'm going to be the most famous and the greatest of us all. She sounded very smug for a one-and-a-half-year-old dragonet.

These thoughts were what kept her going, even as she lived her days exactly the same as she had lived the one before. She knew that there was a bright light at the end of this seemingly endless tunnel; one day, there would be a break from her routine, and she'd be free. When she was old enough, she'd spread her wings, strong enough to fly for several hours, and take to the sky, never to return to her family until she had proved her worth.

But similarly, Amber still had a bit to go before her whole 'prove her sheer epicness' and 'become the famous dragon she was always meant to be' thing came to be reality. She still had approximately four thousand more buckets of water that needed to be filled and brought back, as well as countless other chores standing in the way of her ultimate fame.

So, we'll leave her here, dreaming dreams that were certainly her future.

Let's take our time machine that definitely exists and head a bit forward into time, shall we? Let's see where our characters are now.


	3. My Life Is A Musical - Shut Up, Amber!

**NonexistentBeing: Yaaayyyy! I'm so happy you're reading this! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Thepicduck: Hmm, maybe twenty minutes or so, to come up with the names. Valley, Sandstorm, and Coyote I already had thought of before I started writing, but for the others, I looked up 'desert terms' for SandWing names. Was it really 21 names? Wow. I did not know that. HARAMBE. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **MystycDragon: Yes, it is true. Many, many siblings, and Amber can tell you that. She doesn't like it either. Yes, Amber definitely needs that song to get her through her life. Too bad she doesn't have an iPod. Of course I will take your advice. You give great advice! And I also really appreciate all your feedback. I will ask you if I need anything else. Yes, you do help like a dragon do. And this is a longer chapter, like you wanted! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **dragonwritergirl112: Haha, yeah. Amber's always been a big dreamer. Yes, someday she maybe internet famous. *Is clueless* Oh wait, yeah, you're right. Amber, you need to thank all the amazing people out there who - Amber, are you listening? Well then. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Redwut: So glad you still love this! I really appreciate that. And I'm so glad you found the chapter title amusing! I'm trying to make funny chapter names for each one, so glad I succeeded. Here's an update! And thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Pancake Unicorn: Thanks! Glad you find it funny and like the writing style! This is kind of the dry, sardonic tone of voice that I use sometimes. Here is the sooner rather than later update! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

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Chapter Three

Amber

Three years later we return to Amber, who is going to be four years old. Yes, I know I said nothing really happens to our characters until they really turn five, but see, I got ahead of myself, much like quite often do I. It is these crucial moments that really change their lives...for the better...and for the worse (maybe not necessarily but I like the unnecessary drama).

On the day that Amber was hatched, our SandWing heroine woke up with a large smile on her soon-to-be-four-year-old face. She was very excited, because today, it was her hatching days. In case nobody figured that out yet. But yes, she shouldn't have been excited about it, because normally, hatching days in her village were celebrated by going about usual daily business. So basically, they weren't celebrated, because either nobody cared, or everybody forgot.

Amber was hoping everyone forgot. It would be too cruel to forget your own family's hatching days, wouldn't it?

To be fair, Amber didn't really remember any of her other family members' hatching days, but that was quite obviously because they quite obviously were not nearly fascinating or fabulous enough to have a hatching day worth remembering, quite obviously. It's quite obvious, isn't it, by this point? And also, Amber's hatching day may have additionally been even more forgotten than everyone else's because she'd been the only one to hatch on that day…she'd been the only egg.

But, no, if everyone had truly forgotten, then there was absolutely no way they'd forget _this_ hatching day! Because Amber had taken the kind liberty of putting subtle reminders around her village, such as writing "TOMORROW IS AMBER'S H-DAY" on multiple walls of multiple dwelling in mud, loudly commenting about her hatching day whenever the opportunity presented itself and even when it really didn't, pretending to invite everyone to her hatching day party before canceling because there were just too many people coming, and the like.

Yes, even though Amber's family wasn't very good on picking up on low-key subtlety – something Amber was both very good at picking up on and also demonstrating – she was absolutely positive that there was no way her family would forget this hatching day, because all her hints, while very, very small and definitely not too noticeable if one was looking too hard for them, they were right in everyone's snouts. No way in all the moons would anyone forget this year.

So that was why Amber woke up on the fine morning made even finer by the fact that it was her hatching day with a bright smile across her snout, filled with so many expectations for what the day held – finally, a break in her boring routinely life.

She climbed from her cot, tossed the thin cotton sheets into a semi-made formation, and then, with a huge gasping breath that turned into a yawn, she threw open the curtains of the window, letting in a beam of light. Perhaps, there was also a beautiful bird song that wafted in along with the light to beautify the moment even more, but Amber may or may not have imagined that.

If her life were a musical, which she liked to pretend it was, she would've started to sing at this point. And knowing Amber, she did.

"Oh, the sun is up, and so am I!" she began, her voice a soft soprano, like many female leads in many musicals. "Today's a new day, with a bright blue sky! But it's not just any old morning, because today I'll stop mourning, because today something will change! Why do I feel so strange? But it's a good strange – like when you meet the dragon you're going to marry for the very first time – not that I've met that dragon yet, I'm open to all possibilities, but I imagine that's the strangeness that I feeeeeeeeeeeeeeelllllll – " At this, Amber held out a long and gorgeously high note that caused some glass to shatter and some clay to break. And then, as she began to finish up the note, her voice let out a horrendous voice crack the shattered the musical moment.

Yet this did not throw off the little SandWing. She opened her mouth, intent on singing the next verse of her song, but Juniper's grumpy growl interrupted her before she could speak –

"Would you shut up?" the elder dragonet hissed, blinking blurrily from underneath her thin covers. "And close the window? It's so bright, and I know you don't understand the concept of sleep or anything, but DRAGONS LIKE SLEEPING IN THE DARK."

Amber frowned, but shut the curtains hastily, feeling a bit mortified. Well, not mortified, exactly, because she would never admit to feeling that way. Instead, she beamed.

"Good morning, Juniper!"

"It is absolutely not a good morning," came her sister's grumpy reply. "I'm tired, and it's hot, and I have to go walk for ages under the hot sun just to get a bucket of water."

"Well, if you're going to be grumpy about it…" Amber trailed off. "It's a great morning for me, though! It's my hatching day."

"Desert winds, I KNOW!" Juniper roared, thoroughly infuriated. "It's not like you posted this information around the whole village for days on end. THE WHOLE VILLAGE KNOWS."

"Oh good," Amber replied, feeling a thrill of delight light up her insides, before realizing that she should probably get herself checked out, just to make sure she wasn't burning up. "You guys picked up on my subtle hints. Cool. Well, time to go! There's a whole new world of awesomeness out there!"

"There are dragons dying out there," Juniper grumbled. "We're in the middle of a war."

"We aren't," Amber replied. "We're so far out and remote that the SandWing war doesn't involve us. And besides, I thought the dragonets of destiny we're going to save everyone."

The youngest sister exited the room with a flourish of her tail, hearing Juniper's annoyed huff just as she turned the corner… "And there was nothing subtle about those hints…"

Amber proceeded to "good morning" everyone she saw on the way outside. She was amazed at the responses of, "good morning, and happy hatching day to you," that she received in return – so it had worked! Today was going to be a bit different, then, after all!

Amber threw open the front door of her family's small sand abode, ignoring a squeak of indignation as she accidentally hit somebody in the process.

"Mother!" she cried eagerly when she saw Equinox, looking a bit tired but proud nonetheless, holding a fluffy cake that Amber could only assume was for her hatching day. "Good morning!"

"Is it?" came Equinox's response, deflating Amber's elation a bit. "I must say, we got the latest reports regarding the war – some remote SkyWing outpost has been attacked, several dozens killed – and additionally, your uncle Fossil came down with a sickness again, and I swear he's going to spread it to everyone in the village – certainly not a good morning if you ask me."

"Oh," Amber's response came, feeling very small and also a bit annoyed all of a sudden. This was not supposed to happen on her birthday – both her mother being all worried and not happy for her daughter, and also everybody dying and being sick. This was supposed to be a happy day. Couldn't the world just take a moment and freeze and appreciate the small joy that was Amber's hatching day?

"I'll be back, if you're father looks for me – tell him I'm off at Fossil and Haboob's house, taking care of them AGAIN," said Equinox over her shoulder, and she turned right at the next street, leaving Amber to feel a bit crushed.

The day proceeded in a very similar fashion; dragons approaching Amber, holding what looked to be like gifts and treats, only to veer away with some very terrible news, often regarding the war or other maladies various family members were having, and also an excuse as to why they needed to leave immediately.

Amber would not say she was disappointed. Not at all.

"Why don't you go play with your cousins," Valley suggested, but it was more of an order. "You can tell them all your wild fantasies that you have all the time."

"Those aren't fantasies," Amber told her sister promptly. "Those are my dreams. And they're going to happen."

Valley and Sandstorm, who was standing beside her sisters, exchanged amused glances. "Right. I'm sure." Then they too vanished, leaving Amber with her cousins.

"Let's play hide-and-seek," Veld suggested, and all the little dragonets scattered, yelling, "Amber's IIIIIITTTTT!" at the top of their annoying lungs.

"I am not it," Amber decided, and she decided she had enough of her life in the village.

Yes. This was the pivotal moment in Amber's career; in a way, it was good her family was acting in this way. Although it is extremely unlikely, it is possible that if they'd all rushed to say happy hatching day and thrown gifts at her talons like Amber had wished for, then Amber may never have left, ergo she never would've met Forkedblade.

And my, what a sad future that would've been, for the both of them, and for everyone else.

Amber headed home, noting as she travelled back the lack of dragons she encountered on the way, and went up to her room. She took the thin, threadbare sheet from her cot, and used it as a sort of knapsack to place her few treasured belongings in; a necklace, made of some kind of rare gemstone that she and Dusk had found when she was two and Dusk seven, and that Fossil had fashioned into the necklace that Amber treasured to much. She also placed one of her favorite scrolls, titled '101 Ways To Be Come Super Famous,' a handmade stone dagger, and several other items she felt would be necessary on the journey.

Then, with a long and dramatic sigh that was completely needed, Amber began to sing a song of her departure, because of course, that's what always happened in musicals.

(And don't tell me that this isn't a musical).

"The village has grown to small for me," Amber sang out, gazing from the window at the distant horizon, where a cactus probably suddenly felt very uncomfortable at the intensity of her stare. "And I wonder if this is all for me, this simple life in the sand, without setting out as I'd planned, to go explore this land, oh, why is my life so bland?"

And she turned from the window, looking right into the place that a camera would've been if dragons had cameras. "But now I see, I'm supposed to leave. This is what I know I'll always believe. For how else am I supposed to explore, the places I was meant to always explore? And I'll always want more...than this simple life in the sand, without setting out aside planned, and I leave but my heart is heavy with grief, that my time in this village was anything but brief, and though I'm excited, I'll always miss, the family I've held dearly in my heart...this is what brings us apart!"

She took a big breath, making to sing a high note. "And - "

"Would you shut up!"

"What are you still doing here?" Amber asked her sister, Juniper, immensely annoyed. "You were supposed to be up hours ago, doing chores with the rest of us!"

"You weren't doing any kind of chores," Juniper snapped.

Amber shrugged. "Well, at least I GOT UP. Unlike you."

"I need my sleep," Juniper sniffed. "Seeing as you're constantly singing all the time."

"I do not!" Amber flared up. She squared her shoulders, intent on leaving before she and her sister escalated to the point of a major fight. This was a happy day, tinged with the sadness of leaving her family behind. She was not supposed to have petty fights with her sister.

"You just were," Juniper shot back.

" _This_ is a momentous moment of my life, Juniper," Amber replied, swelling with indignation. "Not that you would understand, because you have no momentous moments! Your life is just one blah minute after another! I am leaving, Juniper. Leaving forever! I'm going to find my fortune in this world. It will be hard! I'll face many perilous journeys on the way, many obstacles, many dragons telling me I can't do what I'm destined to do - "

"You're delusional," Juniper deadpanned, rolling over on her cot.

"AT LEAST I HAVE DREAMS," Amber yelled. "UNLIKE CERTAIN DRAGONETS I COULD MENTION WHO CAN'T EVEN BOTHER GETTING OUT OF BED."

"I'M SLEEPING!" Juniper roared back, fiery.

"SURE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE IT TO ME," Amber shouted, with equal amount of fire in her voice. Seriously. She was so mad, she actually huffed fire into the air, and had to stop fighting to double over coughing, because she wasn't quite used to breathing fire without preparation. But that didn't actually happen, because that coughing completely ruined the anger building in the building as Juniper began laughing.

"What a future you'll make of yourself, Amber," Juniper snorted. "Amber, the dragon who can't even breathe fire properly."

"Juniper, the dragon who can't even get out of bed to do her chores properly," Amber managed to shoot back, wheezing still. I mean, no, not wheezing, choking back laughter of her own at her sister's hypocriticalness. She was choking back laughter because she, unlike her sister, was actually civilized and completely respected other dragon's feelings.

"We didn't have chores because it was your hatching day!" Juniper sniffed. "So if it's anyone's fault for my not getting out of bed, IT'S YOURS. SO THERE."

"Don't be silly," Amber protested, deflating slightly at the reminder of her failed hatching day celebrations that her family hadn't delivered on. "Nobody did anything for my hatching day."

"Oh?" Juniper asked, and if dragons had brows to raise, that's probably what she would've been doing. "That must be why you're leaving. Go ahead, then. Nobody will miss you."

Amber huffed. "Don't be silly. That's not why I'm leaving. Only partially why. I'm leaving because there's nothing for me here. And everyone's going to miss me! I was just heading out to initiate a tearful goodbye scene where everyone begs me to stay and cries and wonders whether they should be boring any more."

Juniper rolled her eyes. "Well, I'm not in that everyone. Goodbye then, Amber. Make yourself famous. If you ever bring me proof of your fame, then I'll probably actually start taking you seriously."

Amber's sister didn't even wince when she received a hard thwack to the side from Amber herself. Then, with a whirl of sand-colored scales, Amber disappeared outside, to where her family was waiting.

"SURPRISE!" a chorus of dragon voices yelled in unison as soon as they saw the hatching day dragonet.

Amber did a double take. She fully had not been expecting this at all. She'd ben resigned to her family's boring fates.

As it turned out, her mother had been making a cake for Amber - that was what she'd been carrying earlier. And the various excuses her family members had made regarding sick dragons was all a lie so that they could make preparations for the party. Aunt Haboob was actually sick though.

"Sweetie," Equinox said, handing Amber the cake. She proceeded to hug her daughter and knock that cake from Amber's talons, sending it into the sand. She stepped back. "Oops. I'm so sorry. Oh well."

She didn't look too sorry about the cake's fate, or the extremely mournful expression not only on Amber's face, but also on a lot of other dragons' faces.

"Happy hatching day, Amber," Whirlwind stepped up next. He handed her a wooden flute. "You're, what, seven years old now? How time does fly."

Amber raised her tail, looking very much like a scorpion, as she found herself growing very annoyed. She liked the flute, yes. But couldn't her father actually remember how old she was? "I'm four, actually," she corrected. "But thank you."

"Oh," Whirlwind said. He was already walking away, barely sparing his daughter a second glance. "Happy fifth hatching day, then."

Before Amber could correct him again, Valley and Sandstorm were stepping up. They held what might've been a piñata, except it was very badly constructed.

"Happy hatching day, little sister," Valley said. "This is a piñata. Except there's no candy in it. You're just supposed to appreciate it."

Taking the not-really-piñata into her talons, Amber was feeling more and more crushed. She knew she should appreciate her family. It was the thought that counted, after all, and she should be proud that they'd even caught on to her subtle hints. And besides, nobody every bothered to celebrate a dragon's hatching day before; this was the first time in her lifetime, so she should've been flattered. But it was like nobody cared enough about her...really, I seemed nobody cared enough about anybody, around here...to actually try.

And that was something that Amber realized she hated. She wanted to be somewhere where everyone cared about everybody.

Her cousins proceeded to start a game of tag, and her party erupted into loudness and bored expressions from the grown-up dragons. Some of Amber's siblings hadn't even bothered to show up; Dusk, Sandstorm, and Valley were there, and so was Turquoise, but she was busy admiring herself in a mirror and probably thought the party was for her and not Amber. Her other sisters and all of her brothers hadn't even shown up. Probably thought it was beneath them, or not worth it.

Amber had had enough.

"Guys, I really appreciate all your work," she said, her voice rather quiet. Nobody looked her way, so she tried again, louder. "GUYS, I REALLY APPRECIATE ALL YOUR WORK."

Dragons turned her way, listening to her for once. Being listened to was a rather strange experience. It really didn't happen often.

"But...I've made up my mind," Amber continued. "I'm leaving."

She wasn't sure what she expected when she said these words. Surely, there would be something. Maybe some tears, a few sniffles. In extreme cases, some epic singing as her family came to appreciate musicals, and in majorly extreme cases, she almost expected her mother to say, "Here's the cake for the actual celebration - we're finally free of Amber's presence in this village!" and she'd fly off to cheers at her departure.

She had not expected silence and dragons blinking at her like they didn't speak her language.

"What," Sandstorm asked, but it wasn't really a question so much as just something to say.

"I said I'm leaving," Amber said, making sure to enunciate. "There's nothing for me here. You are my family, but...I want more than this. I want to see the continent, not just see the same place over and over. Maybe I'll come back one day, but for now..." she paused, both because she was feeling emotional and that was not okay, but also for some dramatic effect, "for now, this is goodbye."

Again, her words were met with silence. She swallowed, thinking she'd have to turn around in the awkward pause, each step piercingly loud, and take off into the sky while her family just watched. Maybe when she came back, they'd still be like that, blinking and quiet and unmoving.

"Okay." Someone spoke at last. Amber turned to look at whoever it was in relief. It was Dusk who'd spoken, the sister Amber had been closest to.

"Goodbye then," Equinox added from her place next to her sisters, Amber's aunts.

Then everyone was chiming in to say goodbye, farewell, auf wiedersehen, and good night. Even though it wasn't night, so that didn't make sense.

And Amber was utterly appalled.

"What, that's it?" she spoke over the clamor. "You're just going to let me go?"

"If that's what you want," Equinox said, turning around and pulling the fallen cake from the ground. "It's up to you. Live your life how you want."

"What she said," Whirlwind said agreeably, taking a large talonful of sandy cake and sticking it in his mouth. "Mmph mmmh mph mmfph mm mph."

He probably said something along the lines of, "You're seven years old already."

"Chew with your mouth closed," Equinox scolded.

Amber turned, holding tightly to her knapsack, a strange empty feeling opening up inside her. It was something she'd never felt before. She'd been treated this way before; carelessly, taken for granted, overlooked. But before, she'd been able to brush it off, look down her nose at those who she felt had slighted her and tell herself that everyone was unable to appreciate her fabulousness.

But this...this was something different.

She didn't like this feeling. Not one bit.

But even as she set off, taking into the sky in a flurry of sandy brown wings, a few last goodbyes lifting into the air with her, the feeling didn't leave.

At that moment, Amber never wanted to see her family again.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Briefly. Yes. This is all I actually have to say. Goodbye now. Thank you for reading, and any feedback is much appreciated!


	4. Exactly Forty Drops, Every Single Day

**Thepicduck: Ah, I see! Of course, of course, I understand. From what meme does the number 21 come from? I'm sorry, I live under a rock and have no idea about anything on the internet...I have heard of harambe before, and I recall looking up the definition once a while ago, and seeing images of a gorilla. Something about a boy falling into a gorilla enclosure at the zoo, and the gorilla being named Harambe...? That's probably wrong. Haha, yes, that history sounds very accurate! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **dragonwritergirl112: Yes, poor Amber! I'm glad you feel bad for her...and I agree, her thoughts are a bit selfish, but that's Amber for you. Her family definitely deserves an A+ for their effort! But yes, they don't get an A+ for raising** **Amber...unfortunately. And of course, if she hadn't run away...**

 **Aw, thank you so much! That's really flattering, I'm so happy you think my stories are good! YOU ARE ALSO AWESOME. Here's another chapter, and I'll try to update some of my other stories soon! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Redwut: Life IS a musical! That is definitely for sure, and it's great that someone agrees with this fact. I'm glad you like the way I write my stories! I'm so glad you read them. Here's another update, and I hope you enjoy it! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Pancake Unicorn: Thank you! So glad you thought it was funny, and that you thought the chapter was great. Awesome! Life is a musical, don't you think? There are times where I just start singing randomly and people think I'm weird. That happened in public, once (or twice, or three times, but who's counting?). That was an interesting experience. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **PyropetheSkyWing: Thanks, I'm glad you think it's nice, and I'm hoping to write the backstory correctly. Glad you're feeling sympathy for the dragonets! Poor Amber, but her life will get better, and I have SO MUCH FUN writing for Forkedblade's parents, but I agree, they're a bit insane. More on them in this chapter! Thank you, I'm super happy you're finding this to be a promising story! I hope I will not fail you. Glad you love these, that means a lot! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **MystycDragon: Did you mean with the author's note, or the story, or the chapter? Sorry, I'm a bit confused. For the author's note, I was going to say something, and then, nothing came to me, and I totally forgot what I was going to announce. Something about Amber and her family and Amber flying off. But I don't remember. Really glad that the chapter gave you the feels! I feel bad for Amber too :(. And you're so inspiring, with your quotes...it makes me really happy? Is that from a song? Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hello. I mean,

The FitnessGram™ Pacer Test is a multistage aerobic capacity test that progressively gets more difficult as it continues. The 20 meter pacer test will begin in 30 seconds. Line up at the start. The running speed starts slowly, but gets faster each minute after you hear this signal.

*makes signal noise*

Just kidding. You are not required to do any sort of exercise of any sort (although this might be considered a form of torture*). I hope you enjoy this chapter! This is Forkedblade and his...hatching day. Thing. Yes. That would be accurate.

*Sorry if you like the pacer test, this is just my opinion on it...

* * *

Chapter Four

Forkedblade

Far away from the SandWing village where Amber no longer resided, and several months after our SandWing heroine took flight and left her home, Forkedblade too was celebrating his fourth year of life. However, he found that his hatching day was much less exciting and certainly less dramatic than Amber's had been. There wasn't any singing.

No, on the day Forkedblade was to turn four, he did not wake up with a smile on his face. He was in a very boring mindset. In fact, he was always in a boring mindset, and the last time he'd actually, genuinely smiled (not that he'd been doing any other kind of smiling)…had probably happened so long ago that he couldn't even remember how to smile.

It actually hurt to move his mouth in an upward motion. Because he hadn't smiled in so long, it was physically taxing.

So, on Forkedblade's hatching day, he woke up and then just lay there, staring at the rock roof and wondering what he was going to eat for lunch today. Perhaps there would be beetle soup, something Forkedblade wasn't particularly fond of, but something his family ate every single day, because beetles were the easiest thing to roast and make into soup, and Silverdagger found millions of them whenever she went out herb hunting.

He was also trying to think of something to do today. Perhaps his parents would finally answer some of his questions about his lost brother Thorn, or maybe they'd actually let him poke his snout outside and breathe in the fresh air – something, to this day, he'd only dreamed of doing.

"Good morning, Forkedblade, darling," came a voice from somewhere to his right. Forkedblade had closed his eyes again, wanting to go back to sleep, because at least in his dreams, he actually did interesting things that didn't involve being holed up in a cave all day counting drips and thinking he was a defected SkyWing.

He'd come to terms with his SkyWing-ness over the first three years of his life, and because he'd never actually read any scrolls on any of the other tribes, and had never actually seen any other SkyWings, only heard about them from his parents, he had been forced to give into logic; he was a SkyWing. He was and always would be, just like his parents.

But this was beside the point. Forkedblade's dreams were his only escapes, the only thing that kept him from the insanity that crept into his mind from the boring days that trickled past at a snail's pace and never presented a slight variation or excitement.

Forkedblade dreamed of many things; of flying (something he had yet to do), of dancing and singing among other SkyWings, of exploring the continent and discovering something no other dragon had yet laid eyes on. And there were others, too. There were dreams like the ones listed above, vague and exciting, promising adventure but always seeming too good to be true, too out of reach. But Forkedblade had different kinds of dreams too; still very vague, still promising things, but much clearer. He could see the places he visited in these dreams much better, and the dragons had defining features that he could remember even when he woke up. These dreams were much more substantial to him, much more tangible.

There were dreams of wind rushing against his scales as he soared above mountains, but he wasn't off exploring Pyrrhia like he normally dreamed of; he was looking for something, or someone. There were dreams of a small, compact, and firm SandWing dragon glaring at him intimidating, demanding things of him, and asking him questions. There were dreams of a laughing and mocking dusty colored SandWing, whose face was ever changing, and whose voice was never the same, and who wore a beautiful necklace that glittered in the light of the moons. There were bright lights, blazing in his face hotly, that brought him a thrill of excitement that he couldn't explain, faces filled with anger or amusement.

Best of all, there were dreams of truth, where Forkedblade, after all his amazing adventures he was very sure he had, would return to the cave. These dreams had darker tinges to them, ominous promises with glittering hope. These were the dreams when Forkedblade returned, and his family, Silverdagger and Icebreather, stared at him in wonder and shock, opened their wings to him, and hugged him close, pride rolling off their scales. They were so amazed at all he had done, and they'd never been happier to call him their son. They forgot all their boring ways, and they came and joined Forkedblade in his new life, as honored members of the tribe (and in these dreams, Forkedblade finally had proof that he somehow wasn't a SkyWing, even though all evidence pointed to him being one).

"Get up, son, there are big things to do today. Dripping to count, stones to polish, birds to watch, herbs to gather, time to waste, homework to do, grass to watch grow, paint to watch dry, lists of boring things to write, walls to stare at, and most importantly, did I mention? There's dripping to count, stones to polish, birds to watch, herbs to gather, time to waste, homework to do, grass to watch grow, paint to watch dry, lists of boring things to write, walls to stare at, and most importantly, did I mention – ?"

Forkedblade groaned. No, it was definitely time to get up. Those dreams had not come true yet, if they ever would. They were just, well, dreams. That's why they were called that, and not realities.

"Dad," Forkedblade said, "first of all, I don't go to school because that's far too interesting for you, and secondly, dragons don't have paint. That's a scavenger thing."

"A remarkably ordinary invention," Icebreather said in a monotone voice. "Rise, Forkedblade. There are big things to do today. Dripping to count, stones to polish – "

It took all of Forkedblade's willpower not to scream "I KNOW!" at his father. Icebreather might not be able to comprehend words spoken at such a high volume.

Silverdagger, who'd been the one, earlier, to say good morning, had not spoken. She had a permanently delighted smile on her face, and she was the only one her family who wore such a cheerful expression, at all times of the day. Forkedblade secretly thought that his mother's snout had frozen with this expression on her face, and she couldn't unfreeze her muscles into any other look.

"Good morning, Forkedblade, darling," she said again.

Being boring, Forkedblade had quickly gotten used to his family's morning routine, which was always the same. ALWAYS. Not a single change to anything.

At least, not a single change to anything his parents did. Forkedblade never did the same things in the morning, but that didn't detour anything his parents said or the way they acted.

They even said the exact same thing every morning, no matter what words came out of Forkedblade's mouth.

"I wish I was sleeping," Forkedblade muttered in response to his mother's cheerful good morning.

"Get out of bed, Forkedblade, sweetie," his mother reminded him, and with a sigh, Forkedblade shoved the thin blanket off of him and pushed himself out of bed.

"Or better yet," he grumbled as he pushed past his parents, who didn't move from their places by his bed, as if he were still sleeping and not getting up, "I wish I was dead."

"Isn't that wonderful, sweetheart," Silverdagger replied, still looking at the recently vacated bed.

"Hurry up, everyone," Icebreather said. If he were more interesting, he might've sounded impatient, but his voice was still eerily monotone. "Have I mentioned? Much stuff needs doing! Dripping to count, stones to polish, birds to watch, herbs to gather, time to waste, homework to do, grass to watch grow, paint to watch dry, lists of boring things to write, walls to stare at, and most importantly, did I mention? There's dripping to count, stones to polish, birds to watch, herbs to gather, time to waste, homework to do, grass to watch grow, paint to watch dry, lists of boring things to write, walls to stare at, and most importantly, did I mention – ?"

Forkedblade sat at the stone table in the large cavern that was considered the dining room. They didn't really have much for anything to eat as breakfast, so he took a bowl of water, warmed by his fiery breath, and flavored with some of the herbs his mother had gathered yesterday. The herbs really did nothing to the taste, and in a very deep and philosophical moment, Forkedblade thought, _This water is my life. No matter what I try to add to it, nothing ever changes and it's just boring and flavorless. This water is my life._

His parents were unaware of his sudden revelation. Silverdagger was heading to the dining cavern where Forkedblade was seated, muttering something about llamas under her breath. Over the years, Forkedblade had managed to decipher a considerable amount of his mother's mumbling, something she was quite fond of doing. Saying the same thing, day after day, for three years…Forkedblade had practically memorized every word his parents uttered, and would apparently ever say. He was contemplating writing a script.

"I'll get you some breakfast, sweetheart!" Silverdagger called over her shoulder, while Icebreather seated himself studiously in front of a wall for his morning drip count.

It was amazing. Forkedblade's parents even managed to get the exact same thing every single day. There would always be forty drops that Icebreather would count before he headed out to count the exact same seventy-three birds, while Silverdagger would watch the same patch of grass grow and then head out to collect the exact same herbs as the day before.

And they did it in the same amount of time, too. Forkedblade didn't understand this at all. It made no sense. His parents must've been magical or something, to get these perfect conditions every single day.

As he sipped on his herb water, Forkedblade wondered how on earth his parents had been raised, and if they'd always done and said the exact same thing every day since they were born. This wouldn't make sense. Because they had to be dragonets, meaning they would've had parents in their lives, and they must've met and fallen in love at some point. Not to mention Forkedblade knew that Silverdagger and Icebreather had been close to the queen and had fought in the war when it had just started. And what about when they'd had Forkedblade? He knew his life must've been different before.

"Here you go!" Silverdagger was back, still beaming all over her dark face. In her talons she held a sprig of what seemed to be rosemary, from the scent, and also from knowing that every day, she brought Forkedblade some rosemary for breakfast.

Forkedblade accepted the herb, and nibbled a bit on it. He managed to sigh again. No matter how strange his parents were, and no matter how boring, they were definitely nice. Not good parents. But very kind.

"Thank you, Mom," Forkedblade said.

She seemed to smile even brighter. "Oh, we know you'll grow up into a fine dragon, my dear."

Normally, Silverdagger would just walk away at this point. That was what Forkedblade had been expecting. So he froze when she leaned towards him, almost secretively.

This was not supposed to happen.

"Happy hatching day, my son," she whispered, the words barely stirring the air, so quiet were they.

That was also not supposed to happen.

His mother spun around, beaming still. "Let's see how my grass is doing."

That was supposed to happen. But nothing else about that exchange was supposed to, even though the fact that his mother knew it was his hatching day sent happy chills coursing through Forkedblade's body.

Well, that certainly proved to him that his parents weren't stuck in some setting where they always said and did the exact same thing. Unless, they were programmed to know it was his hatching day, and this was just a special celebration mode.

 _Three moons, what if my parents are ROBOTS?_ Forkedblade thought in alarm. _But that wouldn't make sense. I'm not a robot. Am I? WHAT IF I'M A ROBOT BUT I'M ON A CERTAIN SETTING TO THINK I'M ACTUALLY A DRAGON?_

It was quite a horrifying thought to have, really. But then, he realized, dragons didn't have robots, and he wasn't sure how he had come up with this concept in the first place. Additionally, seeing as he somehow knew about robots, he couldn't figure out how two robots could produce offspring if they were mechanical.

These thoughts were much more interesting than the ones that normally passed through Forkedblade's bored mind.

Having finished his bowl of warmed water, he got up from the table, leaving his bowl there. He knew that even if he did clean the bowl and place it back where he belonged, in its proper place among the other bowls that were all organized on a very specific spectrum that only Silverdagger really understood (somehow alphabetically, by color, by date of production, and a bunch of other details that Forkedblade had no idea how his mother knew)...even if he did do that, his mother would still come by the table to pick it up, and then he'd have to watch her carry a nonexistent bowl to the river and wash the nonexistent bowl in there, and place invisible nothing back in its proper spot.

And watching his mother do that honestly kind of scared him, like, she was so obsessed with doing everything the same way every day, she would go to the point of miming.

His father would do that too.

"Forty!" came Icebreather's voice right then. "Ah, how perfect, right on time! Not a minute to lose," he saw Forkedblade, who was standing in the spot he usually stood in so that this exact exchange could happen (otherwise Forkedblade would watch his father have a conversation with a patch of air named 'Forkedblade' and it was also very terrifying to watch how adamantly Icebreather believed the air was his son).

"Forkedblade," his father said, noting the presence of the younger dragonet. "Don't just stand there, time is wasting - although, I suppose that was on the agenda, but it's all in the wrong order, you see, for the time that needs to be wasted comes after herbs that need gathering! Oh my, I'd better hurry, the birds need counting immediately."

"Of course," Forkedblade replied.

"Get to counting, son," Icebreather said. He might've sounded panicked, but he still sounded like a monotone robot. He whirled around and hurried forward at an uninteresting pace. Forkedblade settled down, aiming his gaze at the wall so that it might look like he was counting drips if either of his parents bothered checking in on him. Really, he allowed himself to get lost in thought. The wall was no longer just a wall; Forkedblade could imagine it was a window, a window not just to the outside world, but also something that would show him whatever he desired. And Forkedblade desired plenty.

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Well, that was a bit less dramatic than the last chapter. But Forkedblade will be coming up in chapter five, so more will be elaborated on then. Cool beans. Wow. I am never saying that again.

Also, for some reason whenever I write the word 'heroine' I'm always afraid it will autocorrect to 'heroin' so I'll have something like, 'our heroin Amber flew off...' Please, someone cure by acute paranoia of misspelling all words.

As always...comments are appreciated! Thank you all, supreme awesome readers!


	5. In Which Forkedblade Has A Blob Brother

**MystycDragon: Ah, I see. Apologies for the misunderstanding! But no, I've still got a while to go on this one, I think, and sorry for neglecting it. And I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT SONG. I've got a weird love of older music, and that's one of my favorites - Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna mess around, and desert you (probably confused the lyrics) - along with Dancing Queen. I will keep on keeping on fork - that was on fork! Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

 **OtterTheMemeLord: Tank you. Sorry I had to make the pun. Wait, is this video off? Wait, did they get the wrong message about the glass of juice? Let me fix this! Now, do I connect the green wire to the blue wire or the red one? Idk, did I mention I'm** **colorblind? Actually I'm not, but whenever this happens in movie that seems to be the trend...anyway...thank you for reading and reviewing.**

 **Thepicduck: I'm sorry the story's been mostly boring, I'm going to try to make it more action-filled. Sorry. But yea. Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

 **iDragonSpyro: Me too! I love writing for his parents though! Oh well, when writing for them in the last chapter I felt bizarrely resentful, but now that I've figured out their whole backstory, I feel really bad for them. Thank you for reading and reviewing.**

 **Remained unnamed: YAYAYAYAYAY! I'M NOT SURE WHAT WORD THAT WAS, BUT I'M SO GLAD YOU'RE EXCITED BECAUSE I AM TOO! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Guest: You can say that again. XD. Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Me: Thank you so much! That means a lot! I apologize that this chapter was not nearly as amusing as the rest, but Amber and Forkedblade will be meeting fairly soon and I'm hoping that it will be amusing! And infinite apologies for taking FOREVER to update! Thank you for your patience and support, and for reading and reviewing!  
**

 **Jaysong: If you'd like, I could introduce Amber to Phoenix, maybe as some sort of friend in the Scorpion Den? It's completely up to you, though, but let me know! I'm glad you love it, that means a lot! Thank you for reading and reviewing!**

 **Bunnymort4Ever: Haha! Basically the reaction the Pacer Test from everyone! But thank the moons it's a scavenger thing, right?**

* * *

Chapter Five

Forkedblade often took to daydreaming about his brother Thorn whenever he had to pretend to be boredly fascinated by the myriads of weird things that his parents engaged him in. It was one of the only things that kept him sane. He waited for the day when could finally spread his black wings and take flight to the sky, going in search for the brother he was sure existed and had been lost long ago.

Thorn, in Forkedblade's visions, was an odd dragon - not quite a SkyWing (NightWing). His scales were not exactly black. There was a golden tint to them, hints of amber and glints of brown. In the sunlight, he often appeared to be more of a sandy color, and not black at all. He was a small dragon, of compact stature, and a fast flier, like all SkyWings were meant to be. He had to be only a few years older than Forkedblade, but he had no definitive age - somewhere between six to eleven years old. He was a funny dragon, dry in humor and always sarcastic and witty. Forkedblade was sure that Thorn had often performed stand-up comedy acts for him when Forkedblade was much too young to recall. Surely, if Thorn did not have his own lost brother to daydream about, humor had been the only thing that had kept him sane in this dull existence.

But even with all these details that Forkedblade _knew_ he knew, he could never quite envision the dragon that was Thorn. The image that appeared in Forkedblade's mind whenever he began daydreaming of Thorn had no shape. Its face was a blank, blurry mass of sandy colors. Forkedblade wasn't even sure if the mass was a dragon or not, or if he was just envisioning something completely random, like the sun, which he'd never seen.

One thing was for certain, however. Thorn was gone. Surely he'd gone out of the cave of his own accord, chasing the sun from mountain peak to mountain peak. Forkedblade was very sure that, much like himself, Thorn had been fed up with the repetitive days in the cave with his parents. He must've gone exploring for himself. But then he'd fallen into a patch of thorns – and though Forkedblade was positive that his brother had not died, whether or not Thorn's failure to return was by choice or by force, he would never know.

At least until I find him, he always reminded himself when he came upon the previous thought. Because Thorn _was_ out there. Had to be. And another thing that was for certain – Thorn _had_ to be out there, because Thorn was the key to getting out of his boring, repetitive life. Thorn was the link that would connect him to the outside world, and somehow, inexplicably, Thorn was the dragon that lead him to his purpose in life.

This had to be true. In addition to his countless daydreams, Forkedblade had had many, many dreams of his brother calling to him, telling him to find him. There was no way Forkedblade had dreamed these countless dreams for no reason at all. He didn't know why he put so much credit into vivid hallucinations while in a comatose state, but it was something he didn't question it. Thorn's existence in the world was as certain as Forkedblade's SkyWing-ness (and, dear reader, as we know that Forkedblade is in fact _not_ a SkyWing, we know how real Thorn is now).

So one morning Forkedblade woke up after having a particularly vivid dream about Thorn. "You must find me," said the shapeless blob that was his brother. The voice that spoke was blurred, getting softer and louder, much like a badly tuned radio, if dragons had radios. The words spoken sounded like they'd been chopped from a monologue – Forkedblade could hear more to what the voice was saying, but only certain sentences were tuned enough for him to understand. "You must find me…or I will kill him. I'll kill them both, for who they've taken from me. My only…family…my little…brother…find me…I have a reward."

Forkedblade smiled, his eyes still closed, as he remembered the words spoken by his brother. Even though they were part of a greater dialogue, he was sure his brother, wherever he was, had been speaking about him. "My only family, my little brother," he'd said. _That's me,_ Forkedblade thought with a thrill. "I'll kill them both, for who they've taken from me." That part sounded a bit off. It had been Thorn who had flown off from their home, not Forkedblade. So it seemed like, perhaps, Thorn had been taken forcefully after falling into a patch of thorns.

"You must find me."

Was Thorn captured? Perhaps a prisoner of some sort? Was he scared and alone, trapped somewhere he couldn't escape, longing to see his little brother?

 _I will find you,_ Forkedblade thought. The dream was so vivid, much more clearer than normal, even with the odd dialogue. Perhaps Thorn was in more trouble than he'd been before. Maybe he only had limited time before something awful happened to him. Yes, that must be it. There was some form of emergency. Forkedblade needed to find Thorn as fast as possible; it was much more urgent than any other dream he'd ever received.

Today was the day. He was going to leave today.

Unlike Amber's exit from her home, Forkedblade's was certainly less dramatic. He was very certain that his parents would not even realize he was gone. As he ate his breakfast of heated water – flavored this time with rocks _and_ herbs – a hollow feeling struck inside him as he envisioned his parents, stuck forever in their repeating pattern, talking to a son that was no longer there. He wondered, if they were still conscious of feeling (and weren't robots) if they would miss him, once he was gone. He wondered if, when he returned, they would still be stuck in the same routine they'd been in when he left, or if somehow they would adapt to his absence.

He finished the last sip of his warm water, and, per usual, left his bowl on the table so that Silverdagger might clean it later. His parents were setting about usual business, each word uttered identical to the one uttered the day before, and the day before that, and so on. Forkedblade felt indescribably sad. It would be the last time he heard those exact words at this exact time. He didn't know why he felt nostalgic about that. He hated the uniform flow the days took. He should be looking forward to breaking the trend.

But, much like anything, he'd taken these boring days spent with his parents for granted. As sick as he was of knowing what was always going to happen next, he knew that he would still miss his life in the cave.

Still, there was no time for reflecting. He was leaving today.

Despite his hatred of the place, Forkedblade had, not once, attempted to leave the cave. He was, after all, only four, and as curious as he was, the world was a large and frightening place for a dragonet. And unlike today, he feared being lost – he feared that by taking a step outside, he would fall into a patch of thorns and disappear like his brother.

But that couldn't happen, because Forkedblade knew he was going to meet Thorn. So therefore, he wouldn't be able to disappear. It was the future, and the future never lied.

Today, after he finished breakfast, he carefully followed Icebreather outside the cavern. Though he knew Icebreather would never be aware of him creeping out of the cave – and if he was, there was nothing his father could do about it – it just felt right to Forkedblade to sneak behind his elder as though he were on some spy mission. Once his father had removed the large and heavy boulder that blocked the entrance of his home, Forkedblade rushed outside.

There was another thing Forkedblade couldn't figure out about his parents. Something very alarming and slightly disturbing. Disturbing to the point that Forkedblade really tried to block it out of his mind. His parents were so into their daily routine that they physically _could not_ be moved from their normal positions. That meant that, if something tried to force them from what they normally did, they simply went around it. Er – perhaps the better term was that the obstacle went _through_ them, like they were nothing more than ghosts or apparitions.

Once when Forkedblade was two and fed-up with no change to the days, he tried tackling his mother to the ground in hope that she might decide to abandon her routine and play with him, or at least pay attention to him during a time of day when she normally didn't. So, in order to gain enough momentum to knock her to the ground, Forkedblade had backed up, and then let loose, running at the fastest speed his legs could take him and jumping with a cry onto his mother - only he hadn't landed on her.

Let's just say it was very disconcerting to go _through_ a dragon that you know should be solid (because they have made contact with you many times before and nothing like that has ever happened).

Incidents like that had occurred several other times throughout Forkedblade's life, and they were very freaky. He never tried to figure out why it happened. He assumed it was just to make sure his parents' days were never altered in the slightest.

A spell? A curse? He didn't know. He didn't _want_ to know.

But today whatever it was had its use. Because as Icebreather moved outside of the cave, whirling around quickly to replace the rock, Forkedblade fell into the silhouette of his father. For a moment he was bizarrely disoriented as his eyes were coated in black scales – his father was much larger than him – and then the brightest light he'd ever seen blinded him.

For the first time in his life, he was outside. It was not nearly as momentous a moment as he'd expected – it was worsened by the sound of scraping rocks as his father moved the boulder back into place, and there were no dramatic gasps from an unseen audience, no music, or cries of terror and apprehension as he stepped into the blinding sunshine and blinked at the world.

It was much brighter than he'd expected. It hurt his eyes a lot, and he almost turned around to go back into the darker, cooler cave. But no. Even if he could still get inside, that was not what he was meant to do. This world was where Thorn had disappeared, and now Forkedblade had to go find him.

Yes. He set his mind on the quest at hand, and then gazed up at the sky.

Generally this is where a fantastic description of the sky is placed. Something like "The sky. An impossibly blue swath of magic. Infinite, stretching on forever, filled with promises and futures to beautiful to behold. Somewhere where there were no limits, no parents to tell you what to do or boring walls to stare out. A bottomless roof to the unlimited world. A world that Forkedblade was part of."

And then go on to, perhaps, "And the wind – it was even more glorious than Forkedblade ever could've imagined, rushing so smoothly over his scales, cold enough to be refreshing but warm enough that it wasn't unpleasant."

Then it might describe Forkedblade as star struck and humbled by the expanse that was the world, as he realized how insignificant his entire life was. Perhaps he'd feel exhilarated, knowing that there was an entire world to explore out there. Perhaps he'd go through a catharsis, although it is still rather early for that.

But nope. Knowing Forkedblade, none of this actually went through his mind. Instead, as he stared up at the sky, he thought, _Why isn't the sky black, like SkyWings are?_ You see, he was very confused by the fact that the sky was so blue, when SkyWings like he and his parents were black. It made logical sense that the sky, too, should be blue, so that things would match. Or, if the sky was meant to be blue, then shouldn't Icebreather, Silverdagger, and he also be blue? Perhaps this proved that they actually weren't SkyWings.

Well, there was only one way to find out.

Without looking back at Icebreather, who was now gazing up at the sky and counting as birds flashed by on light wings, or Silverdagger, who he actually couldn't see because she was somewhere off in the mountains gathering herbs, Forkedblade flapped his wings, felt the air rushing underneath them and lifting him up – and then fell promptly back to the ground again.

He realized he'd never actually learned how to fly because he'd never actually flown. But how difficult could flying possibly be (ignoring his failure just now)? All one had to do was flap their wings quickly, and then steer themselves along out of harm's way, and all would be fine. Yes. That was definitely how one flew.

So he tried again, and by some miracle (it had to have been a miracle of some sort, because it is quite clear that Forkedblade had know idea how to fly at all) he felt himself being lifted into the sky again, and this time, there was no falling back to the sky. So without looking back at his parents (for he feared that he might change his mind about leaving, as is typical for a hero in a story about to leave the only home they've ever known to embark on what was surely a life-threatening quest), Forkedblade set off at a wobbly (but still very heroic) pace and more or less soared over mountain peaks, away from his home and his parents and the same old routine and dropping water.

 _Thorn,_ he thought, _here I come._

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Sorry for not updating for ages! You might notice that I've changed the rating. I've pretty much finalized the plot of the story and I realized that there may be some darker parts, or darker undertones regarding Forkedblade and Amber's parents. We'll see. Hope you enjoyed! Sorry if this chapter wasn't quite as funny as Amber's...


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